Three Strikes
This is my story for Nighty's contest! These Clans know what Summer, Winter, Spring and Autumm are. (note: that was my first intro from 2012, so let's stick with it) one ------ tick tock The eerie song was flashing in her mind. My mind. I am Graypaw. I am afraid. I'm walking through the woods. The time is exactly four in the morning. The moon is full. The song is in my head. tick tock goes the clock your time is running out make a choice make a move or you will fall like pawns My status is medicine cat apprentice. My age is eight moons. I am a gray tabby she-cat. I am afraid. I should back up, shouldn't I? ---- It started a moon ago. Or, to be exact, three quarter-moons and two days. I notice things. My parents say it's a skill, my mentor says it's a tool, my fellow apprentices say it makes me a freak. It's not like I needed them to tell me that. I'm sorry, I think I'm getting distracted. The time was ten in the morning. It was raining. I was looking up at the sky. I am wet, but absorbed in my thoughts, my dreams, my hopes. The others do not care if I am thinking, they care that it is raining. I am outside, and not doing what they are doing(if you are a she-cat, you are gossiping, if you are Nightpaw or a tom, you are play-fighting. Defying the norm is not acceptable, even if it is by accident. They come outside, they shiver, and make a whole show of being cold and getting wet to the few warriors that are there. They are Softpaw, Flamingpaw, and Streampaw. They are the vipers, the ones who try to make me miserable. "What is wrong with you?" Flamingpaw asked, trying to sound concerned - just a disguise for the scorn that is what you can hear. "Out in the rain? Aren't you cold?" "Nothing is wrong with me. It's quiet, I'm thinking, the rain calms me, and no, I am not cold. Thank you for your fake concern." I replied, gazing past them into the distance. "Stop pretending that you aren't a freak," spat Softpaw, "You are." "Where is this aggression coming from? I don't think I've done anything." "You were born!" chimed in Streampaw. The idiot of the bunch. I do not remember what they said after that, I do not care. I believe I ignored them. I left the camp, to get away from those cowards who wouldn't enter the woods alone. I looked up to the sky, the gray, gray sky, and shouted. Poured my heart out to something that couldn't hear me. And got the shock of my life. "Stop screaming! Do you want to be killed?" Behind me stood a tom, the same age as me, with a fawn tabby pelt, pale orange eyes and a light brown nose. He glared at me like I'd killed his father, and then muttered, "Come with me. The foxes are probably after us by now." I was silent, too afraid to talk. I considered bolting, but I was/am not the fastest runner in the world, and didn't. "Why are you so scared?" asked the tom curiously, his emotions changing on a whim. "Is it me? Sorry, I guess I was a little annoyed. I guess you want my name. It's Zander. But I have an identical twin named Xavier. Watch out, he's violent. Stop being scared. Seriously. Also, I have a problem where my emotions change really easily. But enough about me, what about you, Graypaw? Graypaw. That's a weird name. Sorry. Sorry again, I'll stop rambling." I stood there, shocked, and he turned to look back at me. "Come on! The foxes are still on our trail." "You know my name? What do you mean, real foxes? W-what?" I spluttered, glancing around. "Duh, I know your name! My rogue-Clan-tribe thingie's job is to protect/murder you guys, of course I do! No, not real foxes, we just refer to the jerks as foxes. They want to kill me! And you! And everybody! And me.. Let's go!" He makes a clicking noise with his throat to get my attention. This tom was - is weird. "It's your turn to talk!!!" "Okay," I replied unsteadily, shifting my footing. "Where are we going?" "Base. Talk again." "Why?" "Duh, the foxes." "I'm confused again." "So?" "So, explain again." "No." "Why not?" "Beeeeecauseeee!" "..Yes?" "It's boring!" I sighed, realizing this tom - the cause of all my questions - would not get me many answers. "Okay. Let's try this again. Who are the foxes." "Jerks," replied Zander airily, staring at me curiously. Category:Mistybird's Fanfics Category:Fan Fictions